


The Dark Princess

by broken_empty_doll (deannadicaprio)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Also has same-sex and queer characters, F/M, Friendship and Love and Hate, M/M, OC/OC galore, Original Characters Galore - Freeform, Some historical and actual real world references, Yakuza fanfiction, host club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4404338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deannadicaprio/pseuds/broken_empty_doll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mobster's daughter has to run from New York to Japan. She ends up as a yakuza boss and by threatening some people, at Ouran Academy. How will she actually deal with all these rich people? Will she get fed up and one day snap? Or will someone close to her betray her once again? OC-centric, eventual Kyoya/OC/Kasanoda. If you have always wanted a fic surrounding the gang life of a young girl and her close knit pack of advisors, here it is. Or really anything surrounding a yakuza is fine too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dark Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like the story! Thanks for clicking!

**Chapter One: This Sinking Feeling**

* * *

**You can get much further with a kind word and a gun then you can with a kind word alone.**

_**Al Capone** _

**This life of ours, this is a wonderful life. If you can get through life like this, hey, thats great. But it's very, very unpredictable. There are so many ways you can screw it up.**

_**Paul Castellano** _

* * *

Rumors spread fast in any high school. They spread even faster at Ouran Academy: the playground for the extremely rich and relatively beautiful. Their motto: lineage counts first, wealth a close second. Well this school was going to seemingly get a dog. It was only a week into the school year and already there was a transfer. This is where the rumors started. And boy did they start.

But what made these rumors one of a kind was that they surrounded one girl and the information on the girl was desperately scarce. As you might have guessed, she is the transfer in this tale. What we know about her is minimal at best. Her whole existence was practically myth. You will see that this girl is real but for the beginning she is shrouded in mystery. But maybe we should tell you a little bit about her. It would be the polite thing to do.

The girl was from America and her nickname was the Dark Princess. A very terrible nickname I do agree, but unlike how it might be, it suited her. In addition the nickname preceded her transfer. The nickname wasn't started in Japan but rather in the glittering city of New York. This is where the information got a little unreliable.

It was said that she was a mafia boss's daughter. Then they branched out and said that she was the mafia boss herself. The rumors were even as bold as to say that she had killed other mafia families and was running from the American government. Others were even more ridiculous and said that she was really an assassin who was paying tuition with her blood money.

This tale, you will learn that not everything is as it seems. Some of these rumors are true. Others are so absurd that they make me laugh and chuckle. I guess I'll let you in on a little secret. I'm the girl. I am the Dark princess.

I am the girl who came to Japan with a certain mission. But you wouldn't know that would you. As the saying goes, if I tell you I would have to kill you. Maybe if you guys grow on me, I'll let you know. I really like keeping you guys waiting is all, but I guess I can tell you where I came from. In short, the rumors are true. I was in the mafia. I was adopted and taken in by a mafia boss. Well, he wasn't the boss when he took me in, but he became boss around the time I turned twelve.

My father is boss of the Lucchese crime family. We're one of the five crime families in New York, so goes to say, we're pretty much famous. That makes us feared everywhere. I met my father when I accidently walked in on a drug bust. The cops had been waiting outside a warehouse building that I had recently shacked up in. When I went inside, there standing in the middle of what I had called my living room was a bunch of criminals.

My ten year old self was very scared, but when they asked me what I was there for, I mentioned the cops were outside. So unknowingly I aided their escape and was taken down to the police station for questioning. The police, seeing that I was actually innocent, sent me back to the foster home I had initially run away from.

That was my first interaction with crime. Of course, it wasn't like I went out and tried it again by myself. Instead the exact same thing happened after I ran away from my foster home for the second time. This time I tried to stay under the Brooklyn Bridge. Of course, the Lucchese family had to be doing another drug trade and of course, the cops were waiting, and of course, I just happened to save them. Again. The cops took me to the station, but this time they didn't let me go.

I remember sitting in that cell, alone because everyone else was there for some deep shit and the cops didn't want other criminals to hurt me. But then there was a shadow. Through my crying eyes, a shadow hid me from the world and then a soft voice spoke to me. They told me that they had paid the bail set for me and that I got to go home. I remember chuckling and telling the man I didn't have a home. He said, that he would give me one, one with him.

My new home was the Lucchese family and my new father was none other than the mafia boss Steven Crea. Of course, he was only underboss at the time. But when he did become boss, he taught me everything I know now. He taught me that wherever I went, if I had my memories, I would never be alone. The Lucchese crime family took me and by the time I turned thirteen, I was inducted into their ranks. My dad wanted me to become the family attorney, but I wasn't cut out for it. We could all see that I didn't speak as eloquently as I should with strangers, and that my panic attacks when I wasn't with my gang were frequent.

So instead, as the rumors said, I became a mafia boss. Of course it was of only the Brownsville crew, or the Vario crew, in Brooklyn, but it was still a large crew and we still did illegal things. Things started to really change when I became boss. Being fifteen, I went to the best schools. Steven always making sure I got the education I deserved. But what I did do well in the gangs, was also what I did at school. I learned. I learned the best ways to avoid the cops, at the same time that I learned math.

Because I learned so well, I became one of the best Caporegimes—leaders—my father ever had. So, on my fifteenth birthday, my father allowed me to play in a death match. Now you might think video games and players controlling chess pieces on a board, and that's what they are. But it's more complicated than that, because instead of wooden pieces there are real humans and instead of people on a controller there are mob bosses.

Now, you're probably thinking that my father hates me or doesn't care about me that much if he is risking my life. At the time I would have agreed. I was confused as to why he would take me in, and then use me like a worn out rag ready to discard. I learned why he did this when I finished the game. He did it because he believed in me. He did it because he had now doubt I would win.

I became the Dark princess after that, playing in death matches and being the one who orchestrated them. I became undefeated when wielding the Vario crew and my legacy spread throughout the country. My father was proud of me. I was proud of myself. I was like a Dark princess, who played her games in the shadow of her father. But I won these games, so my men wouldn't die, so our men wouldn't lose so easily.

But now I'm just rambling. I seem to do that a lot when it's just me. I can also tell that you want to know where I fit in in Japan. The real answer is something that I really shouldn't tell you, but I probably won't ever meet you. I hope. If I do, that means you're either dead or about to be tortured until you're dead.

The reason I'm coming to Japan is because I messed up. I technically didn't do anything wrong. No, I just got the short end of the stick. The rumor you heard about me coming to Japan because I was running from the police is spot on. But I wasn't caught because I wasn't careful. No, someone just ratted me out. Father took care of him before he sent me off of course, but Father had to make sure that I would be protected wherever I might go.

So he made sure that I was going to be welcomed on the other side of whatever plane I took. That plane was headed for Tokyo and I was going to be welcomed by one of my father's associates. Father knew that I could never return to America. I think I'm actually on the FBI's most wanted list—a seventeen year old on the FBI's wanted list, picture that!

So he had me get a gang over in Japan, or rather should I say Yakuza. But not just any Yakuza. He got me the yakuza which gets in wars every now and then. He got me the yakuza who doesn't take allies He got me he yakuza which just so happens to be the rival of the largest yakuza out there. Father got me the yakuza which had problems. Problems which take time and money and many life or death games to actually fix. Now, I'm boss of Dojin-kai.

Father actually planned it right. He knows that wherever they send me, I'll make a gang. Gangs are my life, literally and figuratively speaking. How else would people like me get the love of family? So now I have to worry about this new gang, because they didn't come without enemies. I think that's the main reason they allowed me in: because they know that they can't handle them by themselves. I have to worry about moving the whole syndicate to Tokyo also.

So, before I went to Ouran Academy, I took care of that stuff. Well, more or less took care of that stuff. I'm still trying to get the syndicate settled in Tokyo. Plus I now have to look out for the Kasanoda-gumi syndicate. But I can do that at Ouran because their boss's kid goes there. But all in all it was good. That is, until the minute I stepped foot onto Ouran Academy grounds. This is my sort of story. The story which I'm still living and I'm still dreading.

* * *

The first thing I thought was, 'I'm going to throw up'. This foreboding feeling entered my body the minute I stepped through the gates of Ouran Academy. Then, I actually looked at the school. The school was pink in color and huge. I stared at it for a while, wondering if I could just go to a regular high school. I shook my head in protest. Don't want to be with normal people. Can't deal with Kasanoda like that.

" _I have to go in"_ I muttered in English to myself. Subconsciously playing with my lip piercings and clutching my long board tighter, I sighed. I pushed my hair behind my ear and felt my piercings there. Maybe I should have taken them out, I wondered as I went towards the office. But then again, I didn't even have a uniform yet, so it would probably won't matter.

I walked through the empty halls, and felt the sinking feeling again. Maybe I was really nervous. It is nerve-wracking to get into the high school for the rich and pretty all the while being a mob boss. I sighed, tucking my hair behind my ear once more. It was a nervous twitch I just couldn't shake. After five minutes, I found the office and to my surprise, no one there.

"Um, hello," I called in Japanese. My accent was terrible. Father had been preparing to send me to Japan while I was still under investigation, so I knew just about everything. Well, I really hope I know everything.

"Yes," an older woman came to the desk and gasped. She took in my appearance and I could feel my cheeks turning red under her scrutiny. She had her hair in a bun and wore a blue suit.

I on the other hand, looked nothing of the sort. My hair was dyed a blond at the tips and cut to be a short shaggy bob. The rest of my hair was a deep black which rivaled the color of my soul. My hair did nothing to hide the many piercings in my ears. My right held an industrial, double lobes, an orbital and a cartilage at the top. The left ear held double lobes, four cartilage, an orbital and my favorite a snug. The bangs of my haircut hid my forehead and partially hid my dark green eyes.

Looking to the woman, she further studied me and I bent my head down in pure embarrassment. Fiddling with my snake bite piercings, I wondered how my outfit seemed to her. I wore black skinny jeans with holes in the knees. My shoes were regular old black vans and my shirt was merely a white v-neck. Bandages under my hair in the back of my head hid the tattoo I had just gotten. I finished off the look with a dark purple cardigan. My outfit was somewhere between 'I look like I should be in a gang' with 'my mother made me wear a nicer top and a cardigan'.

Actually my whole look screamed foreign. I screamed foreign. My skin wasn't the pale white like the rest of the population. Instead my tone was an olive that rivaled that of the Italians. Then my body shape wasn't petite. It wasn't even that athletic. It was muscled. Instead of being stick thin, I had the curves of a fully grown woman. I wasn't a size 2 or 4, rather a larger size 8. Nothing about me said I was supposed to be here. But I can't help that now. Sighing, I looked up once more and steadied myself.

"I am here," I began in Japanese with my heavy accent, "to get m-my schedule."

"You're then new student?" she asked a little fast. I looked at her in the eyes and saw a different emotion than arrogance run through them. There was a certain amount of fear.

"Yes. I'm Susan Crea," I replied. Her eyes went wide and all life drained from her face. She went to the desk behind her and gathered some papers into her hand. Turning back to me, she gave me them, her hand shaking with fear. She came around the front desk and went to the door to the right. I waited, long board and schedule in hand, for her to speak again.

"Kazama-san," she said to the person on the other side of the door, "the girl is here."

"Send her in," came from the other side. The woman looked to me and I started walking towards and through the door. On the other side was a large room. The huge windows cast light at an older man at his desk. The man wore a suit and had glasses, a mustache and a small beard.

"Crea-san, I hope it wasn't too much of a hassle finding the office," the man said slowly. He put his hands together and brought them to his face in a thinking pose. I approached the desk and sat gently in one of the chairs in front of him.

"No, sir," was my only reply. I was still embarrassed from how the secretary stared at me. Her fear was normal. Once people learned I was a mobster, they really didn't want to hang out with me anymore. I didn't care. I had my gang to hang out with anyway.

"I am assuming that you will get a uniform by the end of this week," he said slowly again. I glared slightly at him, not liking how he had to speak slowly for me to understand him. He took the glare as me not liking his words and he quickly backpedaled his words, saying, "not that your outfit is in anyway immodest, but the students will be sure to talk. We don't want anyone getting hurt, is all."

"No one here will get hurt," I told him softly. His face softened but hardened again when I said, "If they leave me alone, I will leave them alone also."

"Very well then." His hands went up to his face again. I wonder if that is his nervous twitch. Gently putting my hair behind my ear, I waited for him to speak. When the silence grew unbearable, I finally spoke up.

"So, who are you exactly?" I asked quietly.

"I am the vice-principal" he replied, hands still at his face.

"Oh," I muttered. This was getting really awkward really quick.

"I hope you find your classes acceptable. I put you in the second year here, after your father called," he coughed awkwardly and now I understood his fear. He continued, "He asked me to put you in class A, but I told him that it was impossible. But because your father insisted that you were the extremely polite and intelligent, I found a space for you."

"Thank you sir," I replied with a knowing look. My father literally threatened him to put me into the special class. I would have been fine in the class with the rest of the yakuza kids.

"You're welcome," he told me, sighing the words. I rose, looking to my schedule and class.

"My first class is Japanese history. Which way should I go?" I asked politely. I wouldn't want my father to eat his words.

"You can go towards the south wing and then make a right. It's on the other side of campus," he replied as I grabbed my long board.

"Thank you for all your help sir. I promise to get a uniform by the end of this week." I bow slightly to the man and head out the door. The secretary doesn't look up at me and I don't say thank you. We didn't want to have a replay of her literally staring at me again. I grab my board and find the path that leads to the south wing. Dropping the board on the ground, I jump on and begin to ride.

" _That couldn't have gone any worse,"_ I told myself aloud in English.

The familiar sound of my board going over cracks filled the air. It was surprisingly quiet for such a big campus. Messing with my lip, I wonder what I should say to my class. Surely they are going to want me to introduce myself. I could feel the embarrassment already begin. How could I run a whole syndicate without ever flinching, but die slightly with the thought that I had to introduce myself to a classroom? The world may never know.

I finally made it to the south wing and rode through the halls, hands in my pockets. Looking at the numbers, I finally found my room and stopped in front of it nervously. Messing with my lip, I took a deep breath. Wait, should I knock? Or do I just walk in? Oh my god, it's one of those slidy doors too. Can I even knock on this door? Will it break? But what if I don't knock and something happens, something will certainly happen.

I clutched my longboard to my chest with both arms. Don't be intimidated by a slidy door. It's just a door after all. I laughed nervously in front of the door. It was just a door. My thoughts surrounded a door. Maybe I should just walk in like I don't give a shit. But I do. I don't want them to look at me funny. But I have piercings, look different and speak with an accent, they'll look funny at me for sure. I could feel the blood rushing through my face. My breathing got even more frantic and I could feel the beginnings of a panic attack.

"Excuse me," a voice said. I jumped and readied myself to hit the person on the head with my board. I looked at the person and saw it was my teacher, or I assumed that the middle-aged woman was my teacher.

"I'm sorry," I breathed out, my palms sweaty. I clutched the board even tighter and she looked at me concerned and confused.

"Are you the new student?" she asked in a soft tone. Her voice sounded like she was trying to soothe a frightened animal. My breathing evened out after a minute of silence and I gulped.

"Yes. I'm Susan Crea, nice to meet you," I replied, bowing.

"Good. I'm Honda-sensei. I thought you might have been lost. Come in, so we can introduce you and then get you started in class," she said.

She opened the slidy door more, and I walked in behind her. I paused to close the door and readied myself for the stares. Turning around, I could hear the muffled voice of Honda-sensei, but was solely focused on the stares from my classmates. Their eyes were boring into me and I could feel myself getting more and more anxious. I just want this introduction to be over. Wait, what was I going to say again? Oh my god, I never rehearsed this. I'm going to die. No, I'm going to snap and kill someone. Yep, think of death and maybe I'll get calmer. I'm a ruthless mobster who can kill anyone with her bare hands. I don't have to be nervous.

"Crea-san, come and introduce yourself" someone said. I turned to see Honda-sensei looking at me with a concerned look. She had an arm out towards me, so I crossed the distance to her side. The eyes were boring into me. Most were intrigued by the new girl, but others were filled with disgust. They already didn't like me.

"Hello. I'm Susan Crea and I moved here recently from New York in America. I hope, you, um, um, take care of me," I said unsure. Didn't Japanese people say that or something? I bowed quickly and then rose to look at Honda-sensei. She smiled down at me and then turned to the room.

"You can take a seat by the wall over there. Here," she turned to her desk and picked up a stack of books, "are the books for all your classes."

"Thank you," I replied with a slight blush and my heavy accent. I feel like a kid. I didn't even get to buy my own books. Probably another threat from my father. I took the books and walked to the back of the classroom struggling to carry them all and my longboard. Walking through the aisles, I heard the other student's comments.

"She's from America? She isn't even that fashionable for being from New York," one girl muttered to her other friend.

"Isn't she a little fat? That's an American for you" another girl said across the room. She said it loud enough for me to hear and I blushed a bright red.

"We can't even talk to her, she's in the mafia," a boy said next to me. I flinched at the comment. I shouldn't worry. My gang is all I need. I don't need these people. I don't need anyone but my family, my syndicate. They just have to leave me alone and I would treat them fine. A foot suddenly appeared in front of me and I nearly tripped and dropped my books.

" _Damn fools,"_ I muttered under my breath when I passed the girl who tried to trip me. She tensed at my statement. I finally made it to my desk, leaning my long board on the wall. I sat down, placing my books under my desk. Honda-sensei started her lecture and I immediately opened the required book. Just focus on the text and they'll all disappear. But for the rest of the day, the rumors continued. Along with new rumors that I had threatened another student.

* * *

I survived the day. My classes were over and done with and I had survived. It was something of extreme pleasure and extreme pain. On one hand, I knew that I could get through this damn school and finish my education in relative peace, on the other hand, the rumors spread like wild fire. Right now I was in the restroom waiting for everyone to leave. I couldn't stand hearing those fools on the way home. As it is, if the other syndicate members hear about these rumors, they might just show up and harass people; the syndicate would probably try to come to school one day, just to see if I was making friends and all that crap. A familiar tune of the 'Pink Panther' alerted me that it was my father calling me. Grabbing my board and backpack, I answered.

" _Hey pa, how's it going?"_ I asked in my familiar English. Speaking Japanese was exhausting.

" _Well,"_ he started and ended abruptly. My face hardened into a mask of rage.

" _Wait a second, let me find an empty room to talk in. I don't want anyone overhearing this conversation,"_ I spoke angrily. I knew it. I knew it. He got himself into a wedge. I barely left two weeks ago and already the family was having problems. Getting on my board, I roamed the halls. I could hear voices from most rooms this side of the wing, so I sped up. I went farther south in the building.

" _I can feel your anger through the phone,"_ my father muttered.

" _Don't start. I leave for two weeks and something has already happened. How could I not be angry?"_ I whispered angrily. Finally finding the quiet part of the building, I stopped in front of a very quiet room. Music Room 3, it is then. I pushed my board up and put my hand on the door handle. For a second that sinking feeling I felt before, overcame me and I stopped. I heard my father sigh on the other line and rage overshadowed the sinking feeling. I opened the door angrily and was surprised with what I saw.

"My, my, what do we have here?" asked a sickening sweet voice. Rose petals proceeded to hit me in the face and I swear I was choking in perfume. When I opened my eyes from the coughing fit I was having, I was shocked.

Very well dressed boys stood in front of me. They were all wearing the high school uniform, but they were very pretty. They were so pretty it was sickening. I stared wide eyed as I surveyed each of them. There was a pair of twins with flame orange hair, hanging on a small almost feminine brown haired boy around the same age. Then there was a tiny boy with blond hair and a bunny rabbit plush, sitting atop a large brunette's shoulders. The next was relatively normal in the situation and was a dark-haired with glasses which glinted evilly. The last who was moving towards me with frightening speed was a blond with blue eyes

"Hime-sama," the boy started as he appeared at my side.

" _What? Who the hell is that? Susan! Answer me,"_ my father yelled from the other side. He started to swear in Italian. I watched with a gaping mouth as the blond attempted to grab my hand with the long board. The board immediately dropped, creating a large echo in the room.

"Why I don't believe we—" the blond never finished his question. Instead when he was about to touch my hand, I merely grabbed his arm and flipped him over. Now his neck was under my sneaker and I hissed at him.

"Don't touch me," I hissed murderously. Suddenly there were two shadows surrounding me and arms went out to catch me. Merely avoiding them, I slid on the floor, grabbing my long board. I ran out the door, jumped on my board and left the room.

" _Susan, what's going on? What happened?"_ my father asked me, starting to get hysterical.

" _It was nothing. Just a bunch of weirdoes I stumbled upon. They must have been running a brothel or something and thought I was a guest,"_ I replied causally exiting the building and heading to the front gates.

" _Are you sure? If you remember what they look like, I can—"_

" _Stop it. I'm fine, now tell me what's wrong,"_ I ordered. Riding to the front gates, I saw a car waiting in the front. One of the syndicate members was waiting at the door.

"Susan-sama, how was your day?" the drive asked as he opened the door. I got my board and threw it inside the car.

"Very different. It was very, very different," I muttered while getting in. I had no idea how different my life would be.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody. Now if you have questions, you can totally leave it in the comments. Now, about the mafia, the vario crew, the yakuza dojin-kai, they're all real. I did not make them up. Steven Crea is a real person. Now, my OC, Susan is not. She doesn't exist anywhere but here. I'm pretty sure I'm going to make this a Kyoya x OC x Ritsu fanfic. If you guys have any comments, concerns, weird rants, leave me a review. 
> 
> Also this is on Fanfiction.net but I thought I would branch out. No I just didn't steal and copy and paste all of it, if you message the other story, I will answer. The story will be update slowly when i learn how to actually used this damn website. (I'm not very good with technology)
> 
> So as always, follow, fave, review, obsess. Loves yous guys. 
> 
> (I do not own Ouran High School Host Club)


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